


Breathe Me In

by orphan_account



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 17:26:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15490935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Prompt: Shane originally started lending Ryan his clothes because none of his fit anymore. Ryan likes that they're still a bit big on him and, Shane won't admit it that he likes how they smell when he eventually gets them back. Fuck maybe he's in deeper than he thought.





	Breathe Me In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poledancingsquid](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=poledancingsquid).



Between the demanding schedule they often operated on, events that they had to attend, moving apartments and his own insistence on keeping a regular workout routine, Ryan had allowed the notion of spring cleaning to slip his mind until it comes back to bite him, quite specifically, around his arms. Under ordinary circumstances, Ryan would have allowed himself to take pride in knowing that he’s done well to improve his physique. But now, the tightness in his shoulders and arms were an ever present problem that’s a tad bit too persistent to ignore. Even his usual trick of rolling up his sleeves doesn’t do much to allay his discomfort anymore.

And after what seemed like an endless bout of restless fidgeting, Shane finally pipes up with something that isn’t teasing about his ‘guns’ refusing containment.   
“You know if it’s really bothering you that much, I have a spare sweater stashed somewhere. You can wear it if you want.”

“Really?” He’d shrug off the discomfort and power through things most of the time but at this rate, he’s going to have to take Shane up on that offer because this shit’s just getting ridiculous and Ryan is pretty sure he can feel his fingers starting to get numb from lack of blood flow. “Dude, that’ll be awesome. My arms feel like little sausages trapped in air tight packaging.”

“Think you’d rip them if you flexed? Just straight bust out of there like the Hulk?”  
They broke off into bouts of snickering and Ryan actually does make an attempt at flexing despite his complaints. Their snickering turns into hysterical laughter soon after when vague sound of threads straining filled their momentary silence.   
“Jesus christ, I think I actually might!”

Luckily, or unluckily, Ryan’s shirt would live to see another sunrise because Shane produces a grey sweater and hands it to him. Unwilling to spare another second being needlessly tormented by cloth, Ryan practically tears the fabric off with a groan of relief. He doesn’t need any further encouragement to reach for Shane’s offered sweater and slip it past his shoulders. Not that he’d ever mention it out loud but there were advantages to having friends that are taller than you and this clearly is one of them.

Shane’s sweater is just stretchy enough to accommodate their difference in bulk, it’s soft material snug against Ryan’s skin. The overall length of it is something else, though at this juncture, he’s not exactly the person to be complaining about it. The sleeves ended right at the first knuckle of his middle finger. If Ryan wanted to, he could probably make it cover all of them. Instead, he rolls them to his elbows before he looks up.

He’d been expecting another cheap shot at his height. Or a joke about how he looked like a sack of potatoes in it, some shit along those lines. What he hadn’t been expecting, was for Shane to be completely  _silent_. Not that they didn’t have the occasional bouts of companionable silence between the both of them. It’s just…not this kind of silence. This is the kind of gaping silence that makes it seem as though he’d grown a third eye.

“What? Is it really that bad?” 

“No.” Shane appears to recover upon being met with Ryan’s prompting. “No you’re fine. You look-” His friend makes a show of looking him up and down. But instead of relaxing, it has Ryan suppressing the need to shiver. Odd. Shane clears his throat. “You look good.”  
  
“Oh.”   
Before Ryan could read any further into it, TJ’s bursting in through the doors with papers and it becomes easier to slip back into the hustle and bustle of things, the peculiar moment forgotten.

It resurfaces two days later when his attempt to return Shane’s freshly washed sweater starts up a conversation about how he should probably be getting new clothes if he doesn’t want to be stuck wearing T-shirts all the time. Instead of pulling the best friend card and calling him out (rightfully) for complaining about a predicament he placed himself in, Shane had remarked in a tone that was way too casual not to set alarm bells ringing in Ryan’s head that he was welcome to borrow some spares from him if he needed to.

“You’re loaning me your clothes?” Naturally, it’s now upon Ryan to question things with an openly suspicious squint. “Bit generous of you there, Mister Madej. What’s the catch?”

To which, his conversation partner dramatically leans back, hand over where his heart would have been situated under his chest. “You wound me so, Mister Boogara. I have always been nothing but generous!”   
  
“You’re full of shit.” Ryan counters by swatting at Shane’s arm and takes delight in watching his taller friend crack up eventually, the sides of his eyes crinkling in a familiar gesture that conveyed humour.

“No really, there’s no catch. Dude, if anything, you’d be helping me decide if I wanna keep some of the stuff I have back home. Been thinking that it’s time for a bit of spring cleaning anyways.” 

“Oh right, spring cleaning. It _is_  about time, huh?” A pensive expression settled briefly on Ryan’s features. Realistically speaking, there’s nothing that made Shane’s suggestion a bad one- he’d be giving Shane more time to decide if he wants to ultimately toss his old clothes or keep them and Ryan wouldn’t be stuck with nothing appropriate to wear while he takes his time to purchase new clothing in between filming seasons. “Yeah I guess that’s do-able. Hey, maybe we should spring clean together.”

Their discussions eventually ended upon a mutual agreement to FaceTime each other during the weekend. True to their word, they do just that when Saturday rolls around. What started out as a simple ‘Keep it or Trash it’ consultation soon derailed into impromptu competitions of who could create the most outlandish outfit mashups, which Ryan won thank you very much ( _Versatility baby!!!_ ). Shane stayed on call with him until the both of them had places to be and their batteries were on the verge of giving up. But Ryan would say that they’ve had a productive day. Between the both of them, he now has a pile he could donate and Shane had a stack of spares he could probably fit into.

And while he’s not inclined to inflate Shane’s ego (or head) any further than it already is, there’s something pleasant about having the most mundane of tasks become so much fun in Shane’s company, even if they weren’t physically present in the same room. If there’s a spring in his steps by the time he says his goodbyes and leaves to get the rest of his chores done, no one’s there to judge him.

Unsurprisingly, a lot of Shane’s clothes came in shades of blue- ranging from a dark navy colour to something faded and softer on the eyes. Not that Ryan minded, of course. He’s not in any position to be complaining and he happens to look somewhat decent in blue. What’s actually commendable about Shane’s choice in clothing is that he’s pretty decent at choosing material that’s more comfortable than Ryan expected to be. It’s almost impressive really- he’s going to have to make a note on where he got them from.

Their differences in height and overall stature should probably have been more prominent like he envisioned. Granted, Shane’s shirts were a lot longer on him, but they weren’t frumpy or baggy in any way. It’s…comfortable, like a familiar Shane-smelling blanket. But that’s..probably not a direction he wants to think too deeply about. Point is: Ryan’s okay with this. The only thing he does feel somewhat sorry about would be that he’s kind of hogging Shane’s clothes even though Shane himself has expressed that he’s okay with it.

He’s probably a little too okay about the whole thing. Sure Ryan still isn’t immune to a fair deal of teasing and exaggerated faces from his friend  when he’s spotted wearing something from Shane’s wardrobe. But he couldn’t help but feel that there’s a difference in the sharp glint of Shane’s eyes when he fixes him with an appraising look each time before he steps into his space to re-adjust his cuffs, collars or fiddle with his buttons.

Perhaps the strangest thing yet is that Ryan _lets_  him. Lets him get close enough that his knuckles skim against the curves of his throat. Close enough to hear the faintest hitch in his otherwise even breathing. Then there’s also that one incident that infiltrates his dreams even when he makes a pointed effort not to think about it. 

As with most things, it began as an innocuous gesture. Just subtle enough that it escaped detection until it escalates into something that refuses to be ignored. He’d be lying if he says he hadn’t noticed Shane’s eyes hazing over from time to time, or how he falters imperceptibly and loses his place in conversation. Ryan would be inclined to worry, if it hadn’t been for the fact that Shane appeared more puzzled than ill. When he thought to question his friend’s habits, his companion had waved it off with a vague answer and as irritating as it was, he knows that no amount of wheedling or interrogation would get Shane to divulge information before he’s ready. He can be a tight lipped son of a bitch from time to time. 

They end up having the conversation a few days later when it becomes impossible to ignore the elephant in the room. More specifically, the lift. Because Ryan finds himself backed up against Shane to make room for a throng of people shifting in. It would have been fine- awkward and unavoidable but fine, had it not been for the fact that he feels hands upon his shoulders, gripping tight.

And Shane leans down to press the tip of his nose against the back of his neck and  _inhales_. Not a polite ‘is it me or do you have B.O’ type of inhale but a full on good to honest, nose tracing the curve of his shoulder straight up to the back of his ear inhale that leaves Ryan feeling like he’d just been subjected to an electric shock. Jesus fucking christ. Resting this close, he feels the even rise and fall of Shane’s breathing in great intimacy and it’s all Ryan could do to be still. Not to move, or make a noise or something. He wasn’t even aware that he’d been holding his breath until the lift arrives to the next level with a quiet ‘Ding’ and Shane straightens back up.

He has enough presence of mind to wait til everyone has vacated the lift before he holds out an arm to keep Shane from making a swift escape, reflexively jabbing at the button that would take them up to the highest floor there was in the building.   
  
“What the fuck was that all about?” Ryan’s voice cracks in an undignified manner when he finally splutters. He’s only slightly mollified to notice that Shane’s not doing any better in terms of keeping composure. “And don’t try to weasel out of this one.” 

To emphasise his point, he’d taken a square step forward to jab at Shane’s chest, only to promptly freeze at the sound it elicits. A throaty involuntary noise produced from the back of Shane’s throat that has Ryan feeling like he’s both burning up and freezing at the same time. After what seemed like an eternity, Shane finally mumbles.

“It’s the way you smell.”  
  
“The way I- what?”  
  
“It’s your smell.” That little shit has the nerve to click his tongue impatiently at him when he reiterates. “I started- when you returned my clothes to me, I started noticing the scent, okay? Chalked it up to, you know, the shampoo and cleaning detergent you used. That’s why I asked you about the brand you’re using last week.” 

“…..Okay?” Ryan’s brows furrowed. “What? Does it smell weird?”   
He dips his own head to experimentally sniff at himself, as if expecting to figure out the source of Shane’s odd behavior and it only served to fluster his companion more.   
  
“No it’s fine. Just-” To his credit, Ryan doesn’t flinch or pull away when Shane reaches out and brushes his fingers at the hollow of his throat, right where his collarbones were. He’s compelled to swallow when Shane strokes at the patch of skin and he watches his eyes catch that peculiar gleam again. 

“I liked it. Okay? The way you smell. Here.”

This time, his breathing does stutter when Shane skims fingers up his neck to trace his nail against his jawline. His movements were kept carefully slow, giving Ryan the option to pull away if he wanted to. He doesn’t.  
“And  _here_.”

Fingers took hold of his chin gently, tilting his head to the side and Shane’s tugging him closer so that he could tuck his head against his neck, lips brushing against the juncture below his ear when he spoke, voice rumbling in a low intonation that has Ryan’s palms sweating. “ _Here_  too.”

His fingers twitched. Restless. And Ryan’s caught in between the impulse to push but also pull. Unsure of what to do. Shane chooses then to attempt to step away, apologies already resting against the tip of his tongue and Ryan acts before he loses his nerves. He drags his fingers down to the base of Shane’s neck, arm locking him in place.

“You little shit. So that’s why you were so keen on having me borrow your clothes.” 

He feels Shane stiffen at his words and attempt to pull away again. Ryan slung his other arm around his waist for good measure, awkward position be damned. There’s no way he’s going to allow either of them to wiggle out of this one.

“Ryan I-”   
  
“What do I smell like?” He mimics Shane’s previous actions, pressing a thumb squarely against the small of his back so he could knead in what he hopes to be a soothing pattern. “Humour me. What do I smell like to you?”

A quick glance at the digits displayed against the lift panel. Enough time.

“Good.” Shane interprets his question as encouragement because Ryan could feel him carefully inhaling against the crook of his neck again. “Like…home. Which is weird considering you’ve never been to my hometown with me before It’s just-” Another deep breath in and Ryan shudders. “Warm. Good. I don’t know what it is. I just know I want to bottle it.”

“Eau de Bergara.” Ryan murmurs and the moment is temporarily broken with bouts of snickering. He feels the shake of Shane’s shoulders when he laughs, vibrating and reverberating, echoed by his own. “Hey. We. We’ll figure it out.”

Maybe it’s the sheer incredulity setting in. Or maybe it’s the whole having his breath literally stolen away from him multiple times in quick succession. But Ryan’s feeling a little foolhardy. Riding along with the waves of whatever it is that’s happening.   
  
“We’ll figure it out.” He repeats when he relaxes his grip on Shane so that the other could draw back enough and make eye contact. Ryan allows himself to believe in the confidence behind his own words, leans forward and presses his lips against Shane’s. 

His gamble pays off when after a pregnant pause, Shane unfreezes and kisses him  _back_.

**Author's Note:**

> You can let me know what you think of it in the comments or over here at my [blog](https://spoopybruh.tumblr.com/)


End file.
